The Christian is always waking up. Like the boy who inquires as to why he must take a bath since he will inevitably become dirty again, is the man who inquires why he must get out of bed even though he will come back to that same bed. The Christian is always leaving their slumber, his bed, his own credentials and walking into the kitchen to get some bread. All day breakfast. The kind of bread that gives life. And while the Christian will fall back into his bed as night draws near, just as they always do, so we awake each moment. For with Christ the sun is always just starting to rise over the horizon.
Feels like… and looks like… home. Thanks for a poem that feels like HOME young man of God.
Interesting thoughts Phil. Thanks for taking time to read and comment.